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I think I know what's
comin'. We got a burgeoning spirituality on the horizon of our
society. It's there n it's growin. Mindfulness on the NHS.. Meditation in schools. (I am excited to see these kids grow up..!). It makes sense hence it's growin'.
Its nice to be nice. It's natural to love. Hence it's growin. It may
take time but it'll come in thru the door, eventually. When we allow
it. Because the arch of the moral universe is long but it bends
towards justice.

Contempt for this
modern society is where we're at. You see it all around. Fashion
advertisements fronted by sullen expressions. Holywood &
X-Factor, flogging dead horses to tired eyes. Contemporary art with
it's leanings towards disorder, chaos, & sometimes ugliness. The
absolute apathy to change abound.The decline of the West (Oscar
Spengler), these are seemingly the end days, were we put all that
former-prosperity to bed.

Right now contemp. Art seems all about edgyness & graffiti & messy paint & sullen expressions. Nah fuck that. That's like Topshop, frownin' down on us & on our faces too when we find ourself in their shirts.

But we'll get tired of
this contemptious outlook, and thus will be the trajectory. Inspired
will be the step forward. Love will be the landing place.

Art will help society
get there. Paint a picture of a pretty place & watch all birds
fly to it.

Art will help allow it.
Share a smile, see a smile.

Lets see a smile.

Not cus I'm dull &
unrealistic. Or ignoring the truth.

I see the truth and its
loooove! It's creativity. It's compassion. It's one big organism
prodding itself towards glory.

So I ain't talkin about
ignorance is bliss. Or turnin that frown upside down. Nothhiin
mechanical. All natural. Progressive & alive.

Pick up the baton of
impressionism! Lets take one step back, take a deep breath in and
cough sideways all the monotonous laboured speech of modern art. One
step back, & two ever-forward.

Lets see in the souls
of men the light that Monet painted.

Let us see the sadness
too! Sure, perhaps it'll be warming sadness, not sullen, 'whatcha
gunna do about it' loneliness.. Warming sadness, like the empathy
Dylan brings in yr ears as he sings n you agree-inside.

Me and alex
both lived in a hostel together last year in Hove. We both eventually
left there, but stayed in contact. I'd wanted to do a painting of
Alex for a while. He's a good friend and an interesting character –
his tales a strange one and weaves all about, in and out of any
pavement crack or hedgerow. I would say we struck up a real bond based on the books we both read, things we both felt about the world, and just laughing together at life in all it's sillyness.

I got a call from Alex
a couple of months ago saying 'Hey Tom! I'm over at Pauls.. I leave
tomorrow, come around!” so I did. We had a few beers and laughed
and listened to old C.D's. Then I said 'Oh Hey! Lets get that picture
before you go!'. So he sat back against the wall, someone
angled the hanging bulb in his direction, and I snapped a few
on my shoddy phone camera. Means must n all that. I thought they may
not come out any good. but they surprised me..! I took a bunch, and I
couldn't decided which I liked best.

Originally I'd wanted
to do a take on Manet's Absynthe drinker for Alex. I was thinking of
posing it, but in the end, I dug the freshness of the photos we took
moreso than if we'd tried to arrange the shot. It just wasn't the
time, or the place. It was a time to snap & capture what was there. To arrange anythin' woulda felt like a fraud.. drew the originality right outta the occasion.

So I got 6 all together
that I liked the look of, and didn't know which one to paint. The
work goes on hold there for a month, as my brain tries to decide
which. A month or so later, I was up in London looking about the
tate, in the Turner wing. On the wall there was a plack which read
that Turner, used to sometimes paint multiple canvases at a time,
sometimes even 8 seascapes going in his studio, all at once; moving
from one canvas to the next with the paint loaded onto the brush.

I thought, what a good
shout. So this would be my method!

The work

I arrived back from
London n got going the next day. It was a change from doing one
painting, in several ways. Having 6 going at once is very interesting
on the brain.. when I paint I always (in my head) laugh at what I
call the 'Lily Briscoe Blues..'. In the book To The Lighthouse, there
is a character called Lily Briscoe. A young painter who, when the
story pulls into her focus, is always caught up with the work at hand
– either damning herself, or praising herself and getting caugt up
in wander. Well ain't that just the way? Our ego's do this all the
time when creating – either dreaming about how good it is and how
it is going to be and how bla bla bla, or damning us – 'christ,
youre so bad at this, why don't you just give up? Etc etc etc..'

So the Lily Briscoe
Blues, when confronted with 6 paintings? Well, it just makes a
mockery of the whole concept! You realise that one may be going bad,
and one may be going well, but that's ok – it doesnt reflect in any
detremental way on your ability – its just where that painting
happens to be at. I've always kinda succumb to the idea of acting
creatively when your mojo's goin – but we think our mojo is going
when the painting is going well – but someitmes the painting isn't
'going well' (because your crossin thru the muddy beginnings before
you get up the hill) so it can knock you out of stride.. So thus, painting like this, many at once, makes a mockery of the 'sensitivity' you sometimes find yourself fallin' prey to as an artist..

When painting 6, one
may be going great, another, not so. But that's fine! It becomes fun
– like spinnin' plates. Workin them all to a state of happy-ness.

Having 6 different canvases goin' at the same time, I had six different avenues to go down. All the time whilst your paintin' your confronted with 'which turn to take?', each brush stroke can be a decision as to which direction forward you're taking. Having 6 allowed me to much more gently take my course, and not get hung up atall mentally about which course I should take.

Suprise yourself too with how quick it is to paint 6 together - because you're using the same paint largely, it cuts out mixing time, so you get 'em done reletivaly fast!

What I like most about the finished images together is it gives a chance to show the different sides to someones character, different shades. Reverting back to my animation-know-how - the person ain't this drawing, or this one, or that one, or that one... the person is what comes between all those! There's a narrative we can read between the frames.. draw an outline of the soul we can begin to flesh out..

I like too that it simillarily carried the energy of my friend. He wasn't often sittin' still. Hurried hand gestures, flurries of activity, of shoutin across the room, of tilting heads back n debating. He moved alot. And no doubt he moved alot when I took the picture too! Means must, n i'm glad they did on this occasion for sure.

“If only you could
have seen how beautiful it was and how I wished you were here on the
terrace with me; it seems it was cold and I was oblivious to in in my
enthusiasm for the work in hand and for the novelty of it all, but
how hard it's going to be!

I had barely settled
down to my painting when the hospital treasurer appeared, to invite
me downstairs for tea, but he had not imagined that I would be unable
to leave my picture; I made it as clear as I could to him, not in
good English, but using sign language to express my keenness to get
down to work. Ten minutes later, the good man came back in person
with a cup of tea, sandwiches and cakes; which did me some good, I
must admit...”

one of only a handful of self-portraits Monet did

For almost the whole of the last year I have
been enthralled by Claude Monet. Beginning last summer, I travelled
down thru Paris on route to Plum Village (near Bordeaux). I had one
day in Paris – the first time I'd been there, and had a long list
of things to see, beginning with a visit to Pere Lachase, to the
grave of one of my boys Jim Morrison. I found the grave, took a ciggy
off it which I smoked and was my last for a week( I left a copy of
Leaves of Grass in its place..). From there I headed to the centre, with my long-list in hand - Eiffel Tower, Catacombs, left bank, find just where Hemingway used to wander
(another of my boys). The day was still early and I had time for it all. Whilst walking past the Louvre (I knew I had no
time for that unfortunately) I stumbled upon the Musay D'Orsay.

I went in, thinking I
could maybe spare an hour, but I did not know at that time I would be
there for the rest of the day. I spent 5 or 6 hours there, wrote off
the rest of Paris, and really for the first time in my life, became
aquainted with the impressionists.

I really was totally
immersed that day, droppin my eyes into their soft focus. I'd been
meditatin' lots at the time n reading lots of the Dharma (and was infact
en route to a meditation retreat in plum village) & for me, they had
the vision; whether they knew it or not, they had meditative eyes..

Sometimes in life, like
when you look upon the world like it's all in bloom, at once, that
moment; everything urging onwards; the plants and trees all breathing
their quiet breath, & likewise, the wood in the book case is not
dead, the stone in the walls neither. Energy riddles & wriggles
thru all matter. Its all vegetated and blooming – right now.

Monet would describe
his method as looking out at the world and seeing 'a dash of yellow
here, a rectangle of violet-blue there'. Breaking the material down
in his eye, just to be this whole vegetated sway before him. They saw
with Blakean originality;

“Behold our ancient
days
before this Earth
appeared
in its vegetated
mortality
to my mortal vegetated
eye”
-Blake

So for me, that day,
wide eyed & wandering the heavy halls of Musay D'Orsay, I totally
corralled the vision of the impressionists with the truth we bare
witness to in meditation; deep understanding of the truth of nature –
impermanence, emptiness, and all the rest of it. I saw their vision
as the meditative-vision, their eyes as only recepticals; mortal
vegetated eye-holes peering objectively upon the vegetated material world.

I was fortunately able
to further this understanding for the whole week following my day in
Paris; I spent the whole week in plum village lookin upon the world
in blossom. All in high summer bloom – the trees sweating, the
waters gushing with easy summer joy. The people not only breathing
but every folicle of their vegetated body breathing its own quiet
breath. & with such understanding, the vision too; a simple bus
journey thru French countryside becoming a feast of activity, of the
interplay of colour as you stare wide-eyed at someones face. A conversation
feeling fresh as childs play. Such freshness is such beauty. an' it's
all around, in blossom & constant.

Since this time, June
last year, I have really been learning all I can about the
impressionists.

The other day I found
in a charity shop a stack of 5 Impressionists/monet books. Some keen
impressionist has just died, I thought, and that's sad, but glad that
they have fallen into my hands, because I will twist myself with
them, bend myself into them, and gladly so.

One of them the quote
at the top is from. What I love is to see the other side of the
canvas. Revealing the painter behind, how he stood & what he
stood for. Learning about their poverty makes things easier. Haha!
Makes going to sleep in a shoddy bed & damp abode a thing of
diligence rather than societical failure. Ha!

So yes, for the last
year almost now, I have thought a lot about Monet, and the
impressionists, and bought myself nearer to their understanding. This
is the revealing part, because I don't feel I've changed what I felt
about painting, or discarded anything atall – I've come nearer to
myself as a painter really. That's what it feels like. Painting,
whilst learning about the impressionists, has been a fervent
interplay which has poked and prodded me diligently along my way. My
canvases are developing in a certain direction for sure. The
impressionists have helped me to unwind my ignorance, and, especially
with the brilliance of Monet, absolute mastery that begs to be
followed. (I follow faithfully like a dog to a master, but it is
still mine to dog the lead; to sniff this way & that on our
endless trail..)

–

Lets move things
forward

Reading Monet's
letters, I frequently found him saying about how there is such a
short window of opportunity to paint.. for the weather effect to
sustain.. sometimes even only 7 minutes. This is why he would work on
several canvases at once on site. Or would come back the next day at
a simillar time and hope for a simillar weather effect.

I love
this idea, and feel empathy for it too, for portraits. There is only
a small window of opportunity. It becomes especially apparent when
doing self portraits – there is a certain atmosphere that is all about you in that
first sitting – you may be oblivious to it even as you work (It is like nostalgia; we are never aware of nostalgia when it is being created, only is it later that the whiff's come). No mind, infact, perhaps it can be for the better for no specific
mood to be apparent.. This means your cards are ever closer to your
chest; you cannot see the wood from the tree; you are so ingrained in
your current way that it ain't even apparent to you. Well good!
Record it, get it down, n just like the weather of the world'll
change overnight sometimes, your soul weather can change likewise
too. So we must catch it whilst we can; whether the rain trickles slowly off the leaf, or dry grass raises itself to the hotsun; all is nature and all is beautiful & joyous in its essence, so capture it as you see it, as it is.

All this thought about capturing effects in the moment wrings my ears with the wisdom of Walter Benjamin, & his observation that 'The
work is the death mask of its conception'. From that initial satori
(lightbulb moment) it's an effort of catchin' butterflies before they
drift outta reach. In that initial moment – often, you'll know it
exactly – see it in your head in pure-whole-completedness. You'll really know just what you
wanna say – really have that handful of butterflies. But in a
sunken moment they escape you, and it's you to chase after them, and
clumsily catch what you can..

This
is how it can sometimes feel, tryin' to keep on point. Keep integrety
behind what you wanna most say. Especially if a work drags out.

I'm
makin efforts now to capture the main things. Perhaps the expression,
the pose, in the 1st
sitting. Not worry so much about whatever can be filled in later.
Just try to get those indicators of the initial feel down as
accurately as I feel them.

Recent work

One thing I love of Monet is how we can witness in his work what I think of as a balanced creation. I've been thinking alot about the differences between the masculine & feminime over the last 6 months (how they work creatively. Will do a seperate post on this at some point). I think in some characters we can find personifications of both in one. E.g Mick Jagger, David Bowie - somethin' very masculine about them, but somethin' very feminime also.

But anywho, to bring this to Monet. From a distance, we see these delicate, blissful, sometimes dainty impressions of joys before us.. but if we peer close, we may see a rugged definition to the brush strokes. A haphazard, quickly lain, workman-like rendering. So in one it contains the two. I really like this, and it's a theme I wanna carry into my own work.

That was certainly, now I think about it, part of the feeling behind my newest self portrait. Recently, like I said, I been thinking alot about the Masculine & feminime dichotomy that lies behind creativity (& life for that matter). I've been thinking alot too about what is the image of 'the divine feminime?' 'what does the divine feminime look like?' (partly inspired by another project & partly inspired by my own intrigue). So that was the theme and feel behind this one; I wanted to represent the masculine, bent & inquisitive, lookin' out just for 'the divine feminime'. I wanted it to look very masculine, but also to have an undercurrent of feminimity to it; e.g in the pose itself (being a bit like a fashion model 'hands on hips n pointed elbows' sorta stance), the bttom half of the body having a bit of a feminime twist to it (the legs are together rather than parted (typically masculine characterisation))

To critique this one, I think the window stayed open just a little too long - and what began with a winter shrill eased into a spring-light breeze. Y'know? It lost it's full oomph somewhere near the end - when I found myself doin' details without the conviction - that is to say, with a different conviction - as to which I began. But no mind, still a decent portrait, and more importantly, more lessons learnt. Every wrong attempt n all that.. ;)

One thing, I must admit, that excites me, is that Monet was very sparing with his portraits; he only did a handful of self-portraits and seemingly didn't really push the opportunities much atall. Just dipped his toes.

I wanna take the opportunity to explore portraits with his wit & intrigue for life. Just how he watched the weathers of the world change and record all it's intricacies, that's just what I wanna do; watch the changing effect on the soul, let people be vessels; record it thru them.

What I dig with self-portraits is it gives me the opportunity to cast one off. Cast a certain shade of my character off. You might be feelin' a certain way for a month, or a week perhaps. You can acknowledge it n get it down in a self-portrait. N suddenly the face in the mirror may be reflecting back in a new light. Just like Dylan writing every-song to every-shade of every intricately different feeling he felt of heart-ache or love, it's like that. You capture that specific, intricate feeling.

Next steps

I think my next steps now are to

1) sink further into impressionism, continue to cultivate my style

2) Work on bringing my sketching/draughtsman abilities into oil-painting more. I don't currently sketch with my brush, but I could, so I shall.

3) Continue to make effort to capture someones character. This is a trait people always point out in my drawings & paintings, but I wanna push it more so.

4) Just keep simply painting. With no real rules or regulations upon myself. Just integrety, sincerity, and other wholesome ways.

5) Get back into life drawing regularly.

That'll do. As always, bit of a ramble, but hope there's some sense amongst the nonse. Peace x

His Holiness, in a pastiche to Manet's the fifer.Quite happy with this one;painted it on a big block of wood. It was nice to paint His Holiness and reflect on his qualities whilst I did so. I gave this one away to a friend, and gladly it's reinvigorated me to paint him again.

This is my friend Francesca. It's part of an ongoing series that are in tune with the seasons. She's my winter girl. The feel I was after was 'cold outside, warmth inside'. This changed as the painting went on; I just wanted to capture a homely welcoming spirit; also the challenge was not to objectify her too. I feel glad on this front - I think she came out lookin' sexy, but not sexualised. She looks like she's got the power over the viewer too, I'd say.

This was a commision. I wanted to give it a bit of a Degas feel. This picture is not actually of the finished painting. In the finished painting, the dogs head is flipped about the other way. I changed it last minute - an hour before my train. I thought it'd relate the closeness between the two better if their eyes crossed view. So that's what I did.

Here is myself & my pal Ori. These were done one night when I hadn't painted for a while. I like the feel of them, they feel quite fun. Caricatures of our souls. Him, the poet in the meadow, dreamin' of some distance, and me, some brooding mad-man, in equal measure intense & comical. They were just for the sake of painting, and I am glad of them.

This one was done just before christmas. I kinda wanted to continue the feel of the previous self-portrait, give it an intensity. Also give it a 'dead-of-night, but lively' feel too - 'serious conversation under lamplight' sorta thing. Or like a game of chess that really keeps you on your toes and your lips curling eachway.

Was fairly chuffed with this one as it came out largely as I saw it. One of them happy happening's where things fell into place rarther curtly.

This story sums it up:
We went up on the rooftop just to have a catch up before we took the photo for the picture. sat up there, chewin the fat, I said 'Cool shall we do it then (get the photo)?'
'Hmmm, now we really need a wall of green to shoot this infront of...' I looked down at my feet on the roof edge and right there where they hung was the perfect spot for the photo. The sun had come out too that day, right in the high-reach of summer, and was shinin' right on the ivy. right as I'd wanted it in my head. Just one of them days.

Anywho it's quite nice havin' something you've done that you done utterly deteste. Ha. Think this is moving a bit more towards Renoir, which was my ambition too, so am glad about that.

Anywho, still much to learn, a long road to dance down, and it shall be! Peace

Think I'm getting better with colour, but think this one struggles from the overall composition of it. Infact might go and repaint a bit of it, haha. That's the endless problem of painting, especially oils, which weave their wet smell at ya and ask you to carry on..
From the closeup you can see that sections of it look quite good when isolated but that's no good if the whole thing doesn't work well together.

The next one I do is gunna be a big canvas filled mainly with the light of the background. it'll be of my friend Ezme infront of a wall of ivy on a sunny roof.

Here's a quick sketch of my pal Ori. This was a nice one to do as its just one of them ones that came out quickly, just in 20 minutes or so quick fire.

Here's a couple of new paintings. I think they somewhat represent a bit of a pivot point with my painting. The 1st two paintings (of Lennon & Charlie Chaplin) are in line with what I've been doing for a long time. That's probably the 5th or 6th of Lennon i've done, likewise of people like Dylan etc. Idol painting. I always sorta considered it just an expression of grattitude rather than art; paintings usually done in a fevour of being wrapped in one of their albums*.

But the third painting, the one of my friend Todd, represents a bit of a departure point from this. For a while I've had an idea in mind for how I want to paint and have not been able to reach it. What tends to happen is; I begin the painting, then my conservatism mutes any sorta progress of it evolving into something new, as a result of a desire to just 'round off a nice painting'. Altho this has resulted in some 'nice paintings' its also deliberated progress. e.g with this one of my friend Dena. It's a nice painting, but I wanted to say so much more with it, and instead it came out as quite flat(in the material sense), and just a rendering of her physical beauty, and my skill with the medium, rather than saying anything deeper:

So the one of my friend Todd, (which unfortunately by the way the colours on the camera came out a little skewed so it's not quite right on here) When you look at it, it doesnt appear like a massive step forward, but it just feels like a gentle push in the right direction. This is probably about 5/10% of my intent. What I want is to be able to paint these paintings where it just feels like LIFE has been blown together by the winds, all leaf-like-brush-strokes blown about the canvas in disarray, but in the centre, a face to come together - to express the random emergence and miraculousness-nature of life happening. To express also how we come from nothing, blown together for this moment.

*to return to what I was saying about those 'idol paintings', I feel too that these are sort of the pinnacle of that, atleast with the intent of them. The Lennon one, altho its not bang on so not great, what I like about it is the mash-up of elements; it has a bit of a graffiti-street art style to it (with the heavy black stencil-esque outline) but also with the golden glow it (to me atleast) kinda feels like a golden buddha head seen somewhere in our memories. Also the use of cardboard, was, tobe honest just because im poor, but also I like that it represents the 'working class hero' angle to it. That's why I did Chaplain too, the one of him I'll just call 'the tramp' and see who gets it.

--

I went to the Musee D'orsay the other day and was totally blown away.. Manet, Monet, Courbert, Degas, Van Gogh, Renoir.. really blown away. After leaving there felt really like my eyes could just look at life with the delicate caress & desirous-intrigue of their oils.. It was a very poignant thing to do too, as I spent the next week in a place called Plum Village, surrounded by monks, and beautiful people all being peaceful and joyous. Whilst there, I felt too that being mindful ( being in the moment, 'reared to the moment' is the phrase that kept coming to my mind ),to look at the world like this is to look at the world like a painter weighing up-with gentle-intent - the world infront of him. Its a feeling art students may trace the whispers of when they really look in life drawing.

Van Gogh is a good epitomy of that. When you stand infront of one of his canvases, you can really feel the ripples of life about the scene he's capturing.. all the motions in the air and connections of energy between all things.. how a man may seep into the canvas, and may emerge with a bold line of action also.. a tree likewise may be exploding from the earth or plaintively bobbin on the waves of energy abound.

Anywho, will cut it there. Its all about feeling and you can't capture feeling with words, only point to it. But i think what Im pointing to more is my ecstacy & rapture., but perhaps thats an indicement more important than trying to capture feeling with words.. anywho, Thanks for reading. Peas

In my life now, I tend to find myself moving round alot. I have thought of myself as a traveller for a while, but this isn't strictly true; I realised the other day I haven't left the country (beside a week or two holidays) for a couple of years now, and I've never been away longer than three months; Likewise I've never felt the aliveness of not knowing I would return. I've tended to have about 5 weeks out the country at a time when I get away, and steadily, my trips have got closer to home and less grandiose. Coincidentally (or not so..) this has coincided with my university loan running dry, and my pockets getting ever thinner. But that's ok, it's only served me to take more modest trips. If you wanna keep moving you move regardless.

But it's been nice - I've sorta just become always on the move. I tend to stay in a place for about two months, I spose that's just about enough time to get a grasp of the place. Right after uni it was most extreme; two months at home (feet up, flat out), two months in Plymouth, two in Mevagissey, two in Torquay (home again), 5 weeks goin' round East Europe, two back in TQ (working), back to Plymouth, then back to Torquay, where I finally stopped for a while to make BEAT Magazine.

It's not like a conscious choice to keep moving, think more just a natural inclination to keep things fresh. I think the habit is born from chasing after experience, as Byron put it -

“The great object of life is Sensation - to feel that we exist - even though in pain - it is this "craving void" which drives us to gaming - to battle - to travel.."

I think from an outlook acquired such as this, you realise one particular, and fundamental truth in life. Everytime you move, you bare witness to a different side to your character - feel your character, your sensibilities etc, swayed and tested in new ways. You see more clearly who you are when you attack your sensibilities from such a variety of angles. e.g with me, living up North, dropped into working in a pub, it was interesting to see how 'I' would react. Or living in a hostel in Brighton for a few months, seeing how 'I'd' respond to new surroundings. It's all about jumping in at the deep end and learning to swim in a totally new way.

Doing so helps unravel certain traits, helps peel back the opinions and characteristics we assume are fundamental to our characters, fundamental to 'us'.

I spose evidence can be found in the reverse: It's typical that in a place, people are very simillar - not just in terms of accent & features etc, but likewise in terms of their beliefs and opinions. This is only natural, and part of the innocent communitas we seek as humans - were social creatures afterall, and want to get along. But people often feel scared to voice something that makes them seperate from the norm. e.g the football fan who has a secret love of reading, or the girl in the small town who doesn't actually have a desire to gossip or for the sewing circle about her..

Leaving helps you realise the variety in the world, and that it's ok to be your own way. Gives you the integrety to say 'OK, they're that way here. I don't feel affinity with that but I know out there, elsewhere, people do. Lets go find 'em '.

--

--

Further

Eventually, perhaps also, we realise a deeper truth. When you keep chipping away at 'who you are' (which is really who & what your ego has decided to associate with), eventually you get to the point when you just realise, 'wow, we're just all energy, were just all ripples of the big bang going this way and that'. We're all nature at heart. But anywho, this is somethin' I'm still learning about, or moving towards; first you gotta understand it ('stand under' it - appreciate it) then you gotta realize it (make your 'reality' (aint it nice when words offer secret truth's like that?)). I certainly understand it, but realizing it is fleeting, not constant. Unravel your ego baby!

If this last bit has sparked an interest in you, like I said, I won't say much more, but would certainly point you in the direction of 'A New Earth' by Eckhart Tolle. Likewise I would urge you to look at the contentedness in the eyes and manner of someone such as the Dalai Lama. They got it. Peace.

About Moi

"Well I might look like Robert Ford, but I feel just like Jesse James". In 1876, six years before his death, the legendary cowboy Jesse James lived under the alias of 'Thomas Howard'...
...My plan is to create something that gives me more pride than this little fact does.
Enjoy me blog.